Standing, she's standing in the rain again:Umbrella dripping water down the lamp-post,Leaning on it, leaning on a lot of thingsJust waiting for a job.Big shame, you can tell she used to bePretty enough, two or three years agoOr maybe six monthsLooks a lot older than she is, thoughAnd she's falling apart, but Who isn't?Doesn't want a night waiting in the rain, Could she just have a job?Some bloated middle-aged man wanders over, Offers money,She might as well: it's rainingSo she goes with himAnd I stand, in the rain,And watch her out of sight.

She's younger than me.

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